Young Revelations (Young Series) (51 page)

Silence falls on the room—well, if you don’t count the three little boys eagerly greeting their grandfather. Danny looks just as shocked as I am; Marcus seems to be preparing to step in for the fight; Jimmy just looks confused.

“Morning, gentlemen,” my dad says, reaching the bottom of the stairs. To my further surprise, he actually looks uncomfortable. “Would you mind if I spoke to my son in private?”

Marcus sends me a look, silently asking if I’m up for this. I nod minutely and a few moments later, everyone but my dad is retreating up the stairs. I go on about getting changed, purposefully ignoring my father’s presence. I have an inkling of why he’s here and it’s the very last thing I want to deal with right now. Or any time for that matter… I have nothing nice to say to him at the moment, so it’s probably best I wait for him to speak first. Smoothing the non-existent creases in my shirt, I hear my father let out a deep sigh and take a few steps towards me.

“Are you going to look at me?” he asks.

I turn around to face him. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

He raises an eyebrow at me. “It’s my son’s wedding day,” he responds as though it should be completely obvious.

“Exactly,” I shoot back. “And you’ve made it pretty damn clear you don’t approve of my marriage to Samantha, so if you’re here to talk me out of it, save your breath and go home.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” he says quietly, sitting on the arm of my couch. “Maybe if you’d return a couple of my calls once in a while…”

I roll my eyes. “Then why are you here? Or did Mom make you come?” I realize I’m being an asshole, but I really don’t care at this point.

“I wanted to apologize.”

I drop my shirt to the floor in shock, because I have never heard those words come out of my father’s mouth all together like that in my entire life. He’ll find every excuse possible not to apologize for anything, especially when it comes to his kids. He maintains everything he does is the right thing, even if it’s anything but. “Sorry, can you repeat that?” I say quietly, staring at him with wide eyes.

His lips twitch into a brief smile. “I said I want to apologize. I haven’t been as supportive as I should be when it comes to you, particularly where it pertains to Samantha. I’ve treated both of you terribly over the years and I want to apologize for that.”

There’s got to be a catch… “What’s the catch?” I ask suspiciously. “For the first time in eight years, you’re admitting to something I’ve been trying to tell you for years. I’ve stood by and watched you belittle the woman I love, make snarky little comments about how she’s not good enough for me and how I need to be with Lucy. You nearly threw me a party when she left me and took my son with her, even though I was more miserable than I’d ever been in my life. You never passed up the opportunity to tell me I’m better off without her. And then I find out you offered her half a million dollars to leave me and she turned you down—that must have put a bit of a dent in your theory that she’s a gold digger, huh? I know it was Samantha specifically you objected to, because when you met Natalie, you loved her the moment she walked through the door. And don’t think I didn’t hear all the little comments between you, Holly, and Elizabeth about how much happier I seem to have been. In case you’re not aware, Natalie is the woman behind all the shit that’s been going on. The plane crash. Sam and Tyler being kidnapped. Tyler being kidnapped
again.
That’s who you wanted me to be with, Dad. A murderer. A kidnapper. God knows what else she’s been behind.”

“I know,” he says quietly. I only realize now that I’m practically shouting at him. But that can’t be helped at this point; this altercation has been a long time coming. “Matthew, I know all of that. I also know I sponsored a visa for one of the men who helped kidnap your family—I didn’t do the background checks I should have done, and that’s my fault.”

It doesn’t escape my notice that for the first time—possibly ever—my father has referred to Samantha as being my family. Not just Tyler. “What about you showing up here one day and basically threatening Samantha to leave? Telling her she doesn’t belong here and that you’d take her to court? Oh yeah, I know about that too,” I say as his eyes dart away from me briefly. “Who the hell do you think you are that you can make those decisions? I wanted her here if something happened to me. I wanted her somewhere she could be safe. That’s got nothing to do with you. I’m not a child that needs to be led around by the hand so I make the right decisions. I do that just fine on my own.”

He smiles a little. “I know you do, son,” he says softly. “And you’ve done wonderfully. Better than I’ve ever expected.”

“Then why the hell isn’t it ever good enough for you?” I shout. “Why can’t you just let me live my life?”

“Because I’m your father,” he responds, finally looking like he might be approaching anger. “My job isn’t done the day you turn eighteen; it’s still my responsibility to keep you safe.”

“No, it’s not!” I say, fisting my hair in frustration. “I don’t need your protection anymore.”

“You don’t think so?” he counters. “So tell me, Matthew, when your son turns eighteen and goes off in the world on his own, you’re just going to leave him be, even when you know he’s making the wrong decisions? A parent’s job isn’t over until the very end. I will never apologize to you for keeping you out of trouble when I’ve been able to. Yes, I thought you’d marry Lucy one day and I know she hurt you, but love hurts, son.”

I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Stop, Dad,” I say quietly. “Just stop. I’m not listening to another round of Lucy is so wonderful and perfect. Not today. Not ever again. If you love her so much, leave Mom and marry her yourself, because that’s the only way she’ll ever be related to you.”

“Are you finished?” he asks wearily. When I only glare at him, he goes on. “I’m not here to talk about Lucy. I’m here because I’ve failed you and I want to try making it up to you. We both know I’ve made mistakes and I’m not going to be around forever, and I don’t want to spend however long I have left fighting with you.”

“You think I want to fight?” I reply. “Dad, this is supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I’m marrying the girl who means more to me than anybody else in the world, the one I should have been with all along. I’ve made my own mistakes even with you trying to stop me from making them. And this time I’m not letting anybody get in the way of our relationship. Not even you.”

He nods slowly as he takes in my words. “You know, your grandfather on your mother’s side never liked me,” he states matter-of-factly. “From the second he laid eyes on me, he wanted me as far from his daughter as humanly possible. And it certainly didn’t help things when Diane left with me after boot camp; her father thought I was taking her away from her family. Until the day he died, he never had a kind word to say to me. Hell, even the day he died he had nothing but insults for me.”

“So you know what it’s like for the family of the person who means most to you to alienate you and not accept you?” I ask. “You knew all that and you still made Samantha feel like shit time and time again.”

“And for that, I was wrong,” he replies. “All I saw at the time was some girl you hardly knew, yet you were obsessed with her. I didn’t know her or where she came from or who she was or what her intentions towards you were—”

“And you never took the chance to find out,” I interrupt. “You jumped to conclusions about someone who is a better person than the two of us put together. Yes, she has her flaws, she’s not perfect, but that is what I love about her. I accept her flaws and she finds the strength to deal with me and my family and my work and everything else in my life. She’s amazing, Dad. You would know that if you gave her a chance.”

He smiles sadly. “I suppose the fact that she didn’t run screaming from the boat the day she met all of us should have been a clue,” he says wryly. I reluctantly chuckle, nodding. “Look, I know I don’t say it enough, but I am proud of you, Matthew. Not just your career; you’ve made a beautiful family and you’re not just giving up.”

“We have to fight for what we want,” I tell him. “And I want Samantha. End of story.”

“I’m sorry, Matt, for all of this. I do want the chance to get to know her. I want to be in my grandchildren’s lives. If you’ll let me.”

I sigh, reaching down for my shirt and changing from my t-shirt. As much as I want t believe this is real, that he’s truly repentant for his treatment of Samantha, the cynical part of me that’s built up over the years thinks he might be doing this to get in my good graces so he can ask for some favor or another. My eyes catch my reflection in the mirror as I begin buttoning my shirt and I remember when I began turning cynical. It was right around the time I was in the hospital after the bombing and a team of doctors was bragging that they’d managed to save my arm and with months of painful physical therapy, I might have partial use of it again. Every time I changed my shirt or took a shower I had to avert my gaze from my mutilated shoulder, because it disgusted me. It was a symbol of my weakness—I should have been able to protect
myself and my company against that attack. Instead I nearly got myself killed, which would have left my wife and son without a protector. I failed them and I failed myself. After that, the cynicism set in. I started looking at the people around me, wondering which of them was only there because they wanted something from me. Clearly, I was looking at the wrong people, but the feeling is still there.

“If that’s what you want,” I say quietly, turning away from the mirror and my father to put on the damn bowtie, “what you really want, I’m not the one who needs your apologies. I will say this, though: if you ever treat her even a tenth of the way you’ve treated her in the past, I’m done with you. You’re out of my life,
out of my children’s lives, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Claire follows suit. She’s not too pleased with you either. Just keep in mind that you would never in a million years allow anybody talk to your wife the way you’ve talked to mine. Never again.”

He nods and stands from the arm of the couch, crossing the room and batting my hands away from the tie to do it for me. “You’re right,” he says simply. “And I will talk to Samantha. Today if she wants. It’s her call.”

I don’t respond and neither of us speaks again until my bowtie is perfectly done, and my dad scolds me when I can’t resist tugging the damn thing. We then head upstairs where the other men are waiting, probably to see if we’ve killed one another, and I spend time mingling with the guests that have arrived until it’s time for us to head outside.

––––-o––––-

Long before I’m ready, Claire announces that everybody is outside—and freezing their asses off apparently—so it’s time for us to do the same. Traditionally the wedding ceremony would last close to a half an hour when it’s all been said and done, but since it is so cold outside, we’re doing things at a slightly more rapid pace so we can all get back inside where it’s nice and warm as quickly as possible. Everybody in the wedding party has heat packs in their pockets to avoid frostbite, as do the guests. I suppose this is the downside of a Christmas wedding. So far no one is complaining, at least not to me.

“Okay, Sam, let’s get your mane on,” Claire announces happily. Rolling my eyes, I turn towards her
, tearing my gaze from the backyard. I can’t see much right now anyway; the dock is far enough from the house that I can only vaguely make out dots that I assume to be people sitting down. There’s also a blue carpet leading the way from the back row of the seats, where a small tent has been set up for last minute preparations and to hide me from Matthew until I start walking down the aisle, to a white arch that is covered with white flowers, all of which seem to match the ice and snow of the lake perfectly. And it’s beautiful.

Claire is holding out the fluffy faux-fur hooded coat that goes with my dress and is designed to keep me as warm as possible, even through a blizzard. I slide my arms into the sleeves and she tucks it around me, moving around to the front to pull up and adjust the hood. “Perfect,” she says with a grin. “Matt’s going to collapse when he sees you.”

“How about we hold off on that until the wedding is over?” I suggest, turning around as I hear the familiar running footsteps of my son. He’s dressed in his little black tuxedo with a blue vest and bowtie. Someone tried to style his hair, though they clearly gave up when they realized there is no taming it. “Well, look at you, Ty! You look so handsome!’

My son grins toothily at me. “Thanks. You look handsome too, Mom,” he responds. Claire, Lily, and Bonnie manage to smother their laughs.

“Thank you,” I tell him, my voice uneven with laughter. “Do you remember what you have to do today?”

He nods eagerly, his smile huge. “Yeah. I walk with Abby and carry a ring and give the ring to Daddy when I get to him. Then I go sit with Miss Bonnie.”

“Very good,” I praise, then my brow furrows. “Who’s got the rings, anyway?”

“That’d be me,” Danny announces, entering in through the backdoor looking breathless. “Sorry, we got a bit distracted earlier.” He hands the rings to Claire, though I can’t see them as she closes her fist around them. “Also, Sam…” His volume drops significantly as he moves closer to me. “Matt wanted me to warn you that his dad is here. We don’t think he’s going to start any trouble, but he wanted you to be aware before you got outside.”

“You’re joking,” Claire says dully. “He’s actually here?”

Danny nods. “We were surprised too. He and Matt had a long chat about something and they both came up in one piece, so we’re trying not to question it too much.”